


The Pride and Prejudice Chronicles, continued

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Fusion, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-24
Updated: 2007-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-11 23:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter Eighteen, Part One: The All-Atlantis Summer Party - Fun with SGA and Pride and Prejudice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pride and Prejudice Chronicles, continued

When John arrived at the All Atlantis Mid-Summer Party he tried, as casually as he could, to spot Sora in the crowd, checking for her brilliant red hair among the gaggle of inebriated scientists doing the hokey pokey with the kitchen staff, and searching for her quick smile amid the territorial grimaces of the Marines who circled the snack table. He'd dressed with more than usual care that evening, picking out his favorite black t-shirt and deigning to wear his favorite jeans – the pair he'd worn in across the ass, that hung snug around his thighs, long and lean over the top of his boots. But instead of Sora, he saw McKay nibbling imperiously at a chicken skewer by the far balcony, and with a sinking heart he wondered if Zelenka, in a fit of inexplicable loyalty to the curmudgeonly gorgon of the science wing, might not have invited Sora at all. Confirmation of a sort came moments later, when Ford pounced on Thedan, an affable Genii miller, and asked where Sora was.

"She had turnips to pull," Thedan smiled with an apologetic shrug. "Although I bet it could've waited 'til morning if not for – " He wet his lips and glanced toward McKay. "You know."

A surge of fury boiled sharp and dangerous in the pit of John's stomach, made worse when McKay ambled over and made a polite effort at small talk, the kind that befitted amiable relations between the head of science and the military commander of the expedition. John calmed his thoughts as much as he was able by imagining all the ways he could break Rodney's neck, but even Zelenka's cheerful appearance – in a bright blue t-shirt that read 'Czech Mate' – couldn't quell John's sour mood. Zelenka, after all, seemed to think Rodney was _cool_.

As soon as he could, John wandered off to find Scotch and Lorne, and ranted as bitterly as a string of one-syllable words would allow, throwing in the occasional meaningful pause to suggest the pain in the ass character of Rodney McKay. He was just getting going – really laying into the subject with a well placed 'jackass' – when he spotted Lucius Lavin out of the corner of his eye and realized his evening was about to get much worse.

"Major!" Lucius beamed, clapping his meaty hands together. "They're about to play a Dishnay jig!"

John blinked and raised an eyebrow.

"The traditional coming-of-age dance of my people," Lucius grinned. "You should dance it with me."

John smiled weakly. "Thanks," he said dryly. "But I uh – came of age a while ago."

"Pfffft," Lucius said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Not until you're forty, come on, you'll love it, you'll love it, really, it's great – " And he clamped a hand around John's wrist and pulled him to the dance floor, barely giving John time to thrust his drink at Lorne before he was being coaxed to move awkwardly to music that sounded suspiciously like NSYNC.

It was excruciating to be seen on the dance floor with Lucius, whose sense of rhythm was haphazard at best, but things improved when John managed to snag a slow dance with Katie Brown. Things improved further when John drank a lot more scotch before consenting to do the electric slide, and he was almost on his way to having a good time when McKay showed up to ripple his pond.

"Major," Rodney said formally. "I believe the senior staff are supposed to lead in the Athosian _Ishnar_."

John winced. "I'm kinda beat . . ."

"Sir," Lorne cleared his throat apologetically. "There was a memo."

John looked at him, bewildered. "There was?"

Lorne nodded. "You and Doctor McKay, Elizabeth and Zelenka, Doctor Beckett and Halling – "

John let his shoulders sag. "Fine," he said, letting Rodney drag him out to the dance floor. "But if there's ceremonial stripping involved, I am out of here."

Rodney didn't reply, and as the music started John began to wonder if the guy was counting steps in his head. It didn't matter – it's not as if he was looking to let his hip bones collide meaningfully with anyone; he could graze ass cheeks with Rodney and barely think about how firm the other guy's buttocks were – it was just part of the job. Still, by the second movement (the Athosians sure liked to drag out their ritualistic gyrations) the silence was getting unnerving.

"Nice party," John said, ducking under Rodney's outstretched arm.

"Hmmm," Rodney replied.

They spent the next several moves in silence once again. "S'your turn to make small talk, McKay."

"Oh really, Major? And what _exactly_ did you have in mind for me to say? Pick a subject, I'm conversant on everything."

John shrugged as McKay undertook a graceful pirouette. "Good party?" he ventured again.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Do you _always_ talk during moments of cross-cultural exchange?" he asked dryly.

"Mostly," John agreed.

"Well please don't feel moved to do so on my account. I can gently stroke the slope of your shoulders to the 1-2 beat of an Athosian drum riff without feeling the need to know your _sentiments_ on the subject."

"Hey," John said. "I can stroke shoulders as well as the next guy."

"I'm sure you think so," Rodney sniffed.

"Whatever," John drawled.

McKay straightened his shoulders and executed a perfect slide-hop-slide. "Do you and your Marines often go to the Genii homeworld?" he asked.

John narrowed his eyes. "Maybe."

Rodney tilted his chin and swallowed awkwardly. "Then it's probable you'll run into a young woman there whose acquaintance I made when exploring with SGA-4."

"Oh, really?" John said, drawing out the words.

"I believe Sora is – " Rodney colored a little and waited for John to finish waving his arms before he spoke again. " – not quite whom you think her to be."

"Yeah, well, she thinks you're a jackass," John said pleasantly. "She seems like my type."

Their conversation on the topic came to an abrupt halt when Derek Kavanagh brushed past on his way to the punch bowl. "You're almost as sickening as Weir and Zelenka," he spat before weaving off into the crowd, leaving John and Rodney to peer up the line of dancers to where the Radek and Elizabeth swayed.

Rodney's face grew stormy, but he held himself in check. "You were saying – "

John shrugged lazily. "Whatever. We done?"

Rodney looked as though his head might explode. "May I ask _exactly_ why do you dislike me so much?" he asked in a heated rush.

John raised an eyebrow. "You tell me." And as the music ended, he walked away.

  
 **eta** : no, I'm not going to make poor Lorne hook up with Lucius. But I am going to have him act as Lucius' military escort to a place yet to be determined, doing his duty even when John urges him to give Bates the job.


End file.
